Chapter 14
Patrick
Cain’s speed on my cock increases.
“Did it ever occur to you that maybe we could have been something if you’d given me just a hint of respect?” I ask.
“You didn’t want my respect,” Cain fires back. “You wanted my body. You wanted the release I could bring you. You wanted someone to call the shots, so you didn’t have to think about it.”
“I wanted you!” I shout, overwhelmed by this interaction, still unable to fully process that he’s here.
“But you’ve always known that wasn’t an option.”
“Because you refuse to make it one.”
The argument dies when Cain drops to his stomach on the bed, pushes my knees to my chest, and swipes his tongue across my hole.
“Mmm,” he groans before pulling back. “Fuck, Patrick. I’ve missed this.”
When Cain offers praise or a compliment of any sort, it makes my heart flutter. He doesn’t give either often. “I can’t wait to bury myself in your body, feel you clench around me as I fill you up.”
Cain’s fingers dig into the backs of my thighs as he continues lapping at me until I’m writhing beneath him, begging for him to follow through on his words.
“Fuck me. Please,” I rasp.
I can’t see him, but I hear the wet pop of his fingers as they leave his mouth right before he presses one inside me.
Instinctively, I try to pull myself down onto his hand.
“More. Cain, fuck. I need you.”
I wish like hell it wasn’t true. I wish I had more self-respect. I wish I could push him off me, throw him out of my house—and my life—once and for all.
But I can’t. I’m under his spell once again, and I’m starting to believe I’ll never be free of it.
“Because you know no one else can give you what you need, don’t you?” he asks, withdrawing his finger.
“Yes,” I readily agree. I’ll agree to anything if it makes him put his fingers back.
“Then flip the fuck over,” he growls.
I don’t argue this time as I roll to my stomach and push up onto my hands and knees.
Cain’s hand comes down hard, the crack ringing out in the air as he slaps my ass. As a grown man, the act feels more degrading than it once did, but I’m already too far gone to care.
“Chest on the bed. Spread yourself for me.”
Again, I follow his order without objection.
He reaches between my legs, tugging on my hard length, causing me to buck back against him as he pumps lube from the bottle next to us on the nightstand.
A second later, the cold gel is being pushed inside me with two fingers this time.
Cain continues stroking my cock while fucking me with his fingers.
Unable to hold still, I rock back and forth, trying to drag my cock through his fist more aggressively.
“Still such a slut for me, aren’t you?” he chuckles darkly as he crooks his fingers inside me.
“Ah! Yes. Fuck!” I shout, my sanity shattering in real-time.
Suddenly, Cain’s fingers are gone, and his hand has left my dick, leaving me feeling emptier and needier than I’ve ever been.
But I don’t have to wait long.
Without any additional prep, his lubed cock slams into me, forcing me up the bed with my face in the mattress.
I struggle to hold myself open for him when he’s pounding into me this hard.
Always sensing what I need, even if he’s an asshole about it, Cain smacks my hands away and replaces them with his own punishing grip on my hips.
The forward angle has him hitting my prostate every time, making me pant as sweat breaks out on my neck and between my shoulder blades.
My whimpers grow shorter the closer I get.
Right as I crest the peak, making my orgasm imminent, Cain pulls out.
I’m too far gone to hold it back, and I cry out in angry frustration.
“YOU BASTARD!” I yell. Because he pulled out, my orgasm is weak, and my hole clenches around nothing, leaving me feeling empty and unsatisfied despite the release.
Cain’s sinister chuckle behind me has me seeing red, and I throw my left foot back to strike him.
He may have aged, but his reflexes are as quick as ever. He grabs my ankle and twists hard, flipping me onto my back before planting his hands by my head, leaning down so our lips are brushing.
“Convince me you want it, Patrick. Make me believe you’ll die if I don’t come inside you.”
The problem is that I’m pretty sure I will die if I don’t feel his cock pulse inside me, filling me with his cum.
Wrapping my legs around his waist, I roll us so he’s beneath me. My legs are tucked under me, and I reach behind me to get his cock ready for me to sink down onto it. Bracing myself with one hand on his chest, I impale myself on his cock, crying out in ecstasy.
He grabs my hips, bouncing me on his shaft in the rhythm he wants as I dig my fingers into the muscles of his pecs.
The sound of my ass meeting his thighs fills my ears, his cock fills my ass, and the look of bliss on his face fills my heart.
There’s a sheen of sweat on his brow, and his eyes are fixed on my dick as it slaps his lower stomach with my movements, leaving a string of precum between our bodies.
I ride him hard. My thighs are burning with the effort until I lean back, planting my hands on Cain’s shins, thrusting my hips forward.
“Ohh, fuuuuck,” he groans, telling me he’s getting close. I move one hand from his leg to touch my dick when he catches my wrist. “Hands-free or not at all,” he says.
“Cain, I haven’t—”
“You fucking heard me, Patrick.”
He rolls his hips as he bucks up into me. I haven’t come hands-free since the last time he made me do it. And I certainly don’t know that I can do it after just having orgasmed a few minutes ago—regardless of how weak it was.
“I will watch you come hands-free, or I won’t let you come at all,” he repeats. Gripping my waist, he grinds me down against himself, pushing as deep inside of me as he can get.
It’s still not enough.
Cain pulls out, spins me sideways, and climbs off the bed to stand at the edge.
“Hand me that pillow, and lift your hips,” he says.
Yes.
He slides the pillow underneath me and then presses my thighs up toward my chest again. With his feet planted on the floor, he has all the leverage he needs to slam against my prostate repeatedly.
“So fucking tight,” he says.
“So fucking full,” I answer.
“Are you going to come for me, Patrick?”
“Yes,” I bite out.
“Only for me?” he asks in panted breaths.
“Yes.” I’m practically crying now with the need to feel him come inside me. Cain was a terrible first lover because everyone after him was a disappointment. Everything from his pheromones to the constellation of freckles on his shoulders makes me crave him.
“Who owns this ass?”
“You.”
He slams into me three more times before grunting, “Don’t ever fucking forget it.”
My hands fist the sheets as Cain’s warm release floods my ass. All it takes for my body to respond in kind is the swell of his cockhead inside me, stretching me, touching places only he has ever touched.
“That’s it. Lose control for me,” Cain commands, wrapping a hand around my sensitive cock.
“Ah, fuck! Cain, stop,” I whine.
He grips my cock harder, but stays away from the head.
“No.”
He drops to his knees on the floor, and the next thing I know, his tongue is trailing along the path of his cum as it drips out of me. Cain has no shame. He wants what he wants, with no apology or excuse.
That’s the part that makes him so fucking dangerous.
Suddenly, he’s in my line of sight, leaning over me. He doesn’t even wait for me to open my mouth. He pries it open with his fingers and spits his cum onto my tongue.
“Don’t swallow,” he commands before licking a line across my stomach, scooping my release onto his tongue this time.
Knowing what’s coming, I open my mouth and wait for his deposit. His tongue dives inside to tangle with mine as our flavors combine to create something heady. Something I’ve only ever felt–only ever wanted to feel—with Cain.
But all too soon, he’s gone. Slipping away from me emotionally and psychologically as he puts physical distance between us. Cain crosses my room to the bathroom, shuts the door, and starts the shower.